Judgement Day (NJ '88)
by soiknowwhentoduck
Summary: Danny takes someone home on a drunken night out, but they do a runner before he wakes up. Now Steve is acting weird with him at work... could the two events be connected? [This is another of the New Jersey 1988 remastered series, based on the track listing for Bon Jovi's album. This fic is written based purely on the song title, and is set during season 1.]
He'd been hit by a truck. He had to have been, because the way his head was pounding and the stiff, aching sensations in his body couldn't possibly have been caused by a night on the town, surely?

Danny groaned and stretched, rubbing his face and flinging his arm out to the empty side of his pull-out bed, which was slowly cooling. He'd definitely brought someone home last night, and judging by the way his ass was complaining at him, they had been large, rough, and assuredly male.

And god, did he feel good for it.

He'd been on this damn island for just over a year now, and he'd only really flirted with the female side of the population so far. He wasn't ashamed of being bi, or having sexual relations with other men, but he found he was just a bit pickier when it came to guys he took home. Not many males had struck his fancy, certainly not ones who were available or not completely off limits anyway.

He must have found someone he liked last night though... or maybe he had been so damn drunk he hadn't cared, because no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't conjure up the face of the man he'd brought back to his bed. And they hadn't stuck around this morning for him to find out more.

He checked the bedside clock – eleven am on a sunny Saturday morning – and swung his feet to the floor and groaned as he sat up, pondering the many reasons his bed partner would have had to do a runner. Maybe they'd regretted it, maybe they were in denial and had a gay freak out, maybe they just preferred to avoid the awkward morning after conversation of 'oh hey, uh, what was your name again?'

Whatever their reasons, they were gone. And Danny couldn't help but feel this was a shame, because he felt great. Fucking fantastic, in fact. Aside from the fuzziness and headache from his hangover, he felt like he'd had an amazing work out. And he was thoroughly relaxed and sated; the peaceful feeling he tended to have after having had more than one orgasm in n evening. So yeah, it was a shame, because he'd have liked to get to know this guy a little more if this was the result of one night with him.

He managed to haul himself into the bathroom, relieving his bladder and searching for the painkillers for his stuffy head. He looked at himself in the mirror and almost spat the tablet back out before he'd had time to swallow it. His torso was covered with a litany of fingertip bruises, scratches and bite marks. He turned and looked over his shoulder, and found his back to be in the same condition.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered to himself and smiled, adding 'rough' and 'passionate' to the list of descriptors covering his previous evening's activities. Who the fuck had he brought home? It looked like he'd been attacked by a wild animal!

He wondered if he'd done just as much damage to the other guy, hoping he'd left his own marks. A remembered flash made him gasp and feel a little light headed – sweaty skin under his hands, gripping tight, someone growling in his ear while he bit down on their shoulder, the weight of a hot, muscular body forcing him into the mattress.

He had _definitely_ left his own set of evidence.

Danny staggered back into his bedroom and dropped down onto the bed, with the specific intention of sleeping off his hangover until he at least felt a little more human, and recovering in the laziest way possible, but just as he was dropping off to sleep his phone began to vibrate on the side table.

"Detective Williams," he mumbled groggily into the phone.

" _Hey bruh, it's Chin. We caught a case, so get your butt down to the marina,_ " his friend sounded annoyingly chipper in comparison to his own personal state of being.

"My butt wants to stay in bed, Kelly. Call McGarrett..." He was already sitting up though, knowing he couldn't skip out on this however much he wanted to.

" _Already on his way, Danny. Come on, this one's gonna need all of us._ "

The blonde cursed and grumbled as he pulled some slacks out of his wardrobe. "I'll be there in half an hour..."

He rushed a shower and got dressed, glad to see his shirt covered most of the marks on his skin, although some red scratches at the back of his neck couldn't be hidden by his collar. Hopefully no one would be looking there.

He decided to forgo his usual tie. It felt like it was strangling him this morning, and the love bites on his collarbones weren't on display if he left his two top buttons undone. He managed to find his sunglasses, and dragged himself out of the door.

By the time he made it to the marina, the rest of his team were already there, and Chin walked toward him and handed him a takeaway cup of dark, strong coffee.

"You, my friend, are a life saver," he grinned and patted the older man on the shoulder, taking a long draw of the bittersweet liquid. His colleague had even loaded it up with sugar for him.

"You sounded like you needed it over the phone," Chin chuckled, leading him over to the sniper and their boss, "Steve's on the strong stuff this morning too..."

Danny looked up at the SEAL, who was also looking the worse for wear and gripping his own cup of coffee like it was a life raft.

"You go out last night too, huh?" he smiled.

Steve creased his brow at him and gave him a strange look. "Uh yeah... I was out quite late..."

The blonde snorted. "Well I don't know what the hell happened to _me_ last night, but if there are any reports of public indecency I will vehemently deny them..."

The brunette was still watching him intently. "Are you saying you got so drunk you can't remember what you did?"

The cop hoped his partner wasn't judging him for the way he'd chosen to blow off steam, though by the looks of things he's done something similar. He appeared to be staring at Danny's neck, where the marks may have been peeking out from the top of his shirt. The detective shifted his collar up a little higher, trying to act nonchalant.

"I'm saying that I know I at least woke up in my own bed this morning and not a field somewhere, but also if someone could just feed black coffee directly into my arteries, that would be amazing..." The Jersey man looked back over at Chin, "So is there a case, or what?"

They spent the morning dealing with a dead body found on a boat, with the lab providing information on the gun used to kill the guy which led them to a small time arms dealer in Honolulu.

After Steve insisted on dangling the guy off his own balcony at his apartment, he broke and revealed the name of the man he'd sold the gun to. The new suspect turned out to be an ex business partner of the corpse at the marina, taking his revenge on his former friend after he'd lost all his money in a deal gone south.

Steve's 'book 'em, Danno,' was a little lacklustre, considering their success for the day, and he barely spoke other than to threaten perps or bark orders. Generally he seemed a bit evasive and closed down, though Danny just figured the SEAL was still feeling the effects of his own night out.

Their busy schedule meant that it wasn't until later in the afternoon, when Danny was sitting at his desk with paperwork spread out in front of him, that he had another chance to think about his drunken encounter again.

It hit him as he stretched, leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his hair. The sensation reminds him of the feeling of someone else's fingers scratching at his scalp, his own hands skimming through short, brunette strands as a wet tongue winds a blazing trail down his bare stomach, before he's flipped on the mattress and teeth are attacking his lower back and ass cheeks.

Danny moaned involuntarily at the thoughts invading his brain, and had to press the heel of his hand to his crotch to ease his creeping erection. Maybe if he went back to the same bar tonight, he might be able to find that guy. If he saw his face, surely he'd recognise him? Or maybe the mystery man would recognise Danny, maybe he'd enjoyed himself too and would want a repeat performance. If the sounds he kept hearing in the recording in his head were anything to go by, they'd both had fun.

Those groans and gasps sounded oddly familiar, like something tickling the back of his brain telling him he'd heard that voice before, though maybe not making _those_ noises. It was slightly unnerving, and he leaned forward and rubbed at his eyes, deciding he wouldn't go out again tonight as he didn't feel like he'd fully recovered yet. He couldn't even remember which bar he'd been at, anyway.

"Chin and Kono are heading home."

The Jersey man jumped at Steve's sudden voice from his doorway, and he looked over to see his boss leaning against the door jamb.

"Yeah, I'm just submitting the last form and then I'm gone," Danny said, giving his friend a weak smile.

Steve's eyes met his and then darted away, which was unusual to say the least. Their friendship was full of touches and looks that pushed the boundaries of a normal friendship, it was just the way they'd become after six months of being in each other's pockets most of the time. He must be feeling terrible if he couldn't even handle a normal conversation with his partner.

"I thought you were meant to be Superman, babe. How much did you drink last night if you're still feeling it at-" he looked at his watch, "almost six pm?"

The brunette shoved his hands into his cargo pants pockets. "It was a long night, I didn't get much sleep... Listen, I think I'm gonna leave soon so just lock up when you're done, yeah?"

And then he was gone, barely looking at the detective as he left for his own office.

Danny frowned, hitting the keys on his laptop to submit the last document to the server and heaping his files up, waving at the cousins as they left the office. Something was up with the Commander, and maybe he just needed some company, so he walked to the door of his boss's office. A quick beer with his boss wouldn't hurt.

"Steve listen, do you wanna-?"

His mind blanked mid sentence, because he'd just managed to walk in on his friend as he was stripping to change into a clean shirt in preparation to go home. He'd seen the man topless before, but seeing him now was like a punch to the head, because Steve didn't normally look like he'd been someone's midnight snack.

There was a clear bite mark - amongst many others - on his left shoulder, and Danny heard that deep growl replay against his ear all over again.

Images and sensory data surfaced from the recesses of his brain. His tongue, tracing those tattoos. His teeth, digging those red marks into that tanned skin. His fingers, bruising that perfect flesh. Through the haze of alcohol-impaired memory and hazy recollection, everything suddenly came crashing back to him.

Two in the morning, staggering into Rosie's Bar in Waikiki, half a bottle's worth of vodka shots in him already mixing with the beers he'd had. He'd flirted with a few of the patrons, had two or three more shots at the counter and shared a wink with the male bartender, before turning around and walking directly into the broad, solid mass that was Steven McGarrett. The SEAL had also been drunk as a skunk, and they'd stood there staring at one another for a good thirty seconds before either of them spoke.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" the Navy man had slurred.

"Uh... what are _you_ doing here?" Danny had countered intelligently, and jabbed his boss in the chest.

Because Rosie's was a gay bar, and their addled brains were both trying to absorb the fact that their supposed straight-as-an-arrow work partner was standing in front of them in a place they never thought they'd see each other.

Steve had looked down with intense hazel eyes at Danny's index finger, still pressed into his pectoral, and grasped the blonde's wrist. It had reminded the Jersey man of their first serious argument, when the SEAL had gotten him shot and refused to apologise, and he'd twisted Danny's arm behind his back when he'd pushed him, only for the detective to punch him right back upon being released.

Only this time, he hadn't been put in an arm lock. This time he had been pulled forward into a rough kiss, had a slick tongue forced between his lips, and he'd responded in kind with his own pent up sexual tension with the man being released in one go. Because he had been one of those guys who was off limits.

He'd been attracted to McGarrett the day he'd met him, but nothing had ever come of it because the guy had almost immediately become his boss. Plus he'd been an asshole, and there was no way Danny was going to admit to being aroused by a Navy SEAL who was built like a brick wall and could probably kill him with his little finger if he found out. By the time he'd realised Steve wasn't a complete dick, they'd become good buddies, and nothing was going to get in the way of that friendship.

Except, apparently, twelve vodka shots and four beers.

All this, and the rest of the night, zapped through his mind in the space of about ten seconds as both men stared at one another in terror in the middle of Steve's office. And Danny remembered _everything_.

Being held to the wall outside Rosie's while he shoved his hands up under the other man's t-shirt and investigated every inch of warm skin he could find. Being dragged from the taxi and shoved through his own front door after shaky fingers had fumbled his keys more than once while his mouth was otherwise occupied. Being thrown down onto his crappy fold out bed and ravished by a flesh-hungry Lieutenant Commander on a one-man mission to draw the most licentious noises possible from his partner's throat.

The night had been a blur of fast and rough and needy; their desperation for each other all-consuming. It had been all biting and clawing, licking and sucking, teeth and tongues and pulling hair, rutting and fucking and shouting and howling.

He could hear it in his head now, Steve moaning his name as he drove down into him, Danny screaming out the brunette's name when he came hard and writhing with teeth practically piercing the skin on his back. Lazy, languorous making out until they were both ready for more, and then starting the whole thing over again.

"Fuck..." he whispered.

The silence stretched out between them for way too long, and Danny tried to work out what his next move should be. His brain screamed at him to run, but his feet were glued to the floor while his heart tried to crawl out of his throat.

"I'm sorry," Steve finally said, swallowing hard and dropping the shirt in his hands.

The blonde stuttered, trying to catch up with the conversation. "You're... you're what?"

"I'm sorry," the SEAL repeated, "That I left this morning without... without saying anything..."

In his shock, it hadn't even occurred to Danny yet that actually, yes, his boss had fucking skipped out on him while he'd still been asleep. What the fuck was that about?

He didn't get to voice his question though, because the taller man was ploughing ahead.

"It's just... fuck, I don't remember much of last night, but when I woke up in your bed and, well it was pretty obvious what we'd done... And we were so drunk, Danny. I thought you might hate me for going home with you, and it was kind of... Judgement Day, you know? I just... panicked, I guess. And believe me, I _don't_ panic," he snorted harshly, "I'm a fucking Navy SEAL, I don't _do_ panic..."

"So you just fucked off?" Danny regained some of his composure and crossed his arms over his chest, though his pulse was still jumping in his throat.

"I know, I'm sorry," Steve sighed, "It was a jerk move... but then we got called in and you turned up, and you didn't seem to remember anything and... shit, I thought I'd be relieved! But..."

He trailed off, and Danny cocked his head to one side curiously. He was going to draw this out as much as possible to torture the other man. "But?"

The brunette blushed. That was something the Jersey man never thought he would see in his life, right there.

"I um... I actually felt... A bit disappointed? I mean, from what I remember it was-" he nervously waved his hand back and forth between the two of them, "-good?"

Danny scratched at his stubbled chin and took a deep breath. "Well firstly... Firstly, I _did_ remember some of it. I couldn't picture your face, but I had memories of... things... and secondly..." His train of thought derailed when Steve absently ran a hand through his hair and his abs flexed. "For fuck sake, before I continue can you put your damn shirt back on? I can't concentrate..."

"Sorry," the Navy man muttered again, grabbing his clean t-shirt and tugging it over his head, before a smile flickered across his lips. He'd probably just registered the fact that his partner had technically admitted his body was distracting him.

"And secondly," Danny continued before the other man could say anything, " _Good_? 'Good' is what you're going with? Jesus Christ babe, if that was 'good' then I think 'amazing' would probably kill me..."

Steve grinned at that. "Amazing?"

It was the cop's turn to blush. "Don't let it over-inflate your ego, Superman."

The Commander visibly relaxed. "So you're... I mean, you don't... regret it?" He began to approach the shorter man, moving slowly enough that Danny could retreat if he wanted to, or tell him to fuck off. But the blonde really didn't want to do either of those things.

"Oh don't get me wrong, I'm pissed that you did the 'love 'em and leave 'em' routine on me," he groused, "Takes a special kind of chicken to run out the morning after the night before."

"Chicken?" Steve repeated, now only a step away from his friend, hazel eyes locked very firmly with Danny's.

The detective smiled. "Chicken," he confirmed, jabbing the brunette none-too-gently in the chest.

A strong hand came up and slid around his wrist, and Danny didn't pull away. He swallowed past the dryness in his throat and held his resolve even while Steve moved into him, putting his body only an inch away.

"Care to see if we can upgrade from 'amazing' now we're sober?" he purred darkly, making Danny's hairs stand on end.

"Promise not to disappear in the morning?" The Jersey man's voice was almost a whisper, but the smile on his face belied the snarky comment.

"Oh, it's going to be _my_ house this time. Your bed sucks..." Steve grinned, and his lips were on Danny's before he could reply.

He crushed the shorter man back into his office door, hands going to his hips to grind them together through their clothing.

The blonde bit at his lips as his fuzzy memories were replaced by new, stronger ones. Steve's words echoed in his head... "It was kind of… Judgement Day, you know?" If it had really meant that much to him, then maybe his feelings were as strong as Danny's. Maybe he'd wanted him for just as long.

He knew he was damn well going to find out.


End file.
